


Come and break my walls

by dorina16able



Series: Begin Again [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle Scenes, F/M, Family Reunions, Feels, I Ship It, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorina16able/pseuds/dorina16able
Summary: A few months after his return, Jean decides to visit his mom so she can meet Sasha and baby Marco. Insecurities, fears and nightmares still haunt him, though, and it’s up to his family to help him realize that the cruelties he faced belong to the past.





	Come and break my walls

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone, here's the second part of the series...God, I love this pairing sooo much :) So, the sequel to my other story is here, family reunions are taking place (I adore Jean's mom ever since the OVA)
> 
> The title is taken from a verse of the song "Begin Again" by Rachel Platten, which gave its name to this series.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Attack on Titan universe and characters in any way.

_The sounds of the battle echo across the dark and damp streets of this part of the Underground City, swords clashing, crying out, men falling over injured, objects smashing and the shouts of the innocent residents who are running away from the frontlines to seek shelter in their homes. Armin and him are heavily outnumbered, two against a whole group of traitors, members of the Order of the Walls and the Military Police alike, those working together with the previous monarchs to keep people in the dark about their history, about where Titans came from, about the fact that humanity isn’t extinct like they want everyone to believe._

_“They won’t let us escape, Jean, we are far too dangerous for them, we have information they wanted to hide at any costs, they’re not planning to keep us alive!” Armin shouts at him while dodging an attack, trying to analyze the enemy’s strategy even in this dire moment._

_Jean knows that his friend is right; hell, it’s unlikely that these jerks will even take them prisoners, their mission is to make sure that whatever new information the two of them have will not reach the rest of the group and the oblivious residents of the walls. He tries to find some sort of escape, something that can distract their opponents and buy them enough time to get the hell out of here, just like all those years ago when he managed to lead his comrades to the Headquarters in Trost. But now it’s two against many and his mind is stuck; the only plan he_ can _devise is fighting with all his strength and not give up like some weakling. But when he hears the gunshot and feels an immense pain in his side that catches his breath off and falls to the ground, he knows that everything’s over._

_“Don’t come over here, Armin, get outta here, go back to them!” he yells with all the strength he can muster when he sees his friend rushing to his side with a terrified expression; Armin killed someone before to save him, now it’s his turn to make sure that Armin will escape this hell._

_“No, Jean, you’re wounded, I need to get you away and treat that injury—!”_

_“Shut up and run away, damn it!” now Jean can barely speak and his vision is already darkening, his mind slipping between consciousness and comatose, but he manages to lift his arm and weakly push Armin away. “Just…Just do as I say, they…they need to know…”_

_Because this whole spying mission will be a complete failure if Hanji and all the others don’t learn about the new suspicions and conclusions they have reached. There are so many more things Jean wants to say; messages he wants him to relay to his friends with whom he’s been through so many things…to his Commander and his Captain who taught him so much….to Sasha, who was so terrified the night before he left, crying and wanting to keep him with her, and yet was so calm the next morning, having accepted that he had to leave and only pleading him to be careful, saying goodbye with a kiss he keeps in his memory, holding onto it when the dangers of this mission overwhelmed him._

_But he doesn’t say anything and not only because he barely has any endurances left, but also because he doesn’t want to mention the rest of the Scouts in front of those traitorous jerks who don’t hesitate to kill other people to achieve their goals…he suspects that the merest mentioning of them will endanger them and that’s the last thing he wants; and so he simply pushes Armin again, who now seems to be on the verge of a panic attack._

_“Get. Out. Armin!”_

“Jean?”

A soft voice and a gentle touch on his arm bring Jean back to reality, distracting him from the memories that still haunt his mind day and night despite the months that have passed. He sighs, shakes his head to get a grip on himself and looks at Sasha, who’s walking next to him with a concerned expression and holding their son in her arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and pats the top of her head to calm her down, although he doesn’t elaborate, he doesn’t try to evade the subject by using some excuse or other to explain. He still finds it difficult to speak openly, although he’s certainly trying for Sasha’s sake, but the time when he would dismiss the subject and talk about something else is long over.

“Don’t be,” Sasha replies and gives him a tender smile full of understanding, because she knows exactly what Jean’s going through, even if she gives him the space he needs; she knows that Jean still has nightmares about his one-year-long absence, about how he was shot and tortured and needed months to fully recover. To think that he was still moving with some difficulty when he returned to the home they made near the ocean, which happened seven months ago, and it’s barely been three months since he healed entirely…Sasha shakes her head, unable to imagine how that feels like. After all that, who can blame him for still having difficult moments, nights of waking up bathed in cold sweat, nights when his only life-line is hugging her as tightly as he can or talking to baby Marco?

Still, they have moved on and life has returned to its calm rhythms, spending their days with their friends, the remaining Survey Corps, although they haven’t seen them for three weeks. Now that  Marco is almost one year old, they’ve decided to make that journey to Jean’s mother’s new home; it’s been so many years since the last time Jean saw her, not to mention that it’s time for her to meet Sasha and the newest addition to the family.

After three weeks of travelling by cart, they can finally see their destination, close to a lake and with a mountain at the horizon. It’s silent and peaceful and Jean is relieved that his mother found a shelter away from Titan territory; besides, apparently it won’t be long before she moves back to Trost. Hanji went to the lands inside the walls two months ago to inspect the situation and talk to Commander Pixis and Historia and came back with the news that people started moving back to Shiganshina, six whole years after the fall of Wall Maria, and that it’s a matter of time before the same happens with Trost and all the other abandoned districts and villages.

Nevertheless, the scenery surrounding this new village, about two days away from Krolva District, is really lovely and even the little one looks around impressed with his big, hazel eyes, leaving delighted noises and struggling in Sasha’s arms, making her chuckle because Marco has become quite the little explorer, especially since he started to crawl. “Did you send a message to your mom to wait for us?” she wants to know now; she has heard only good things about Mrs. Kirstein, but she can’t help feeling anxious about how she will react.

“And ruin the element of surprise? Nope,” Jean chuckles and tickles his son’s chin. “She’d be on edge otherwise and constantly worry that something would happen to me during my journey…And don’t you think that mentioning you and Marco isn’t something you can’t announce out of the blue in a brief message?”

“Yeah…Suppose you’re right.”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” the young man gently pulls Sasha closer to him when noticing her concerned expression and guessing her fear at once, “my mother will love both of you, she loves kids…and you’ll give her the chance to cook for an entire army,” he winks, smiling in relief when Sasha abandons her worried look and laughs loudly.

“Jean, I already like your mom!”

 

The residents of the village seem to have built a steady life here and the pair smiles at the sight of them talking to each other, laughing, children playing in the streets. It’s always welcoming and heartwarming to see that, especially when they remember everything they lived and the tragedies they suffered. Some of them throw them curious looks as they pass by, surely not used to strangers coming here, and one or two smile at the baby that’s looking around.

After asking around it’s easy for them to find Mrs. Kirstein’s house; it looks comfortable and cozy and even has a small garden. Everything is so calm that it reminds Jean and Sasha of the peaceful environment of the ocean…of how things were before the war, when they were happy and carefree children.

 _Our childhood was taken from us, as was our adolescence, we were fifteen years old during the war and felt like twenty-five-year-olds. But it’s over now and I’ll make sure that Marco won’t live the same horrors; that he’ll live the childhood and life he deserves,_ Sasha mentally swears now, nodding encouragingly towards Jean, who seems emotionally overwhelmed now that they have arrived.

The brunette woman who opens the door and stares at them with wide eyes looks simple and kind and Sasha feels her anxiety vanish, smiles and tears up slightly when she sees her leave a surprised gasp and fall in Jean’s arms, hugging him tightly and bursting in loud sobs, unable to believe that she’s seeing her son after all this time. And Jean himself is neither embarrassed nor awkward, like he would during the time of hiding his emotions behind an arrogant mask; on the contrary, he relaxes in his mother’s embrace and comfortingly rubs her back with a content smile, as if he just got rid of a burden he didn’t know he had.

“I never thought I’d see you again, but look at you, you’re a man now, all grown-up,” Mrs. Kirstein fusses over him when they pull away and presses a kiss on his forehead; the years that passed and the hardships she faced during the evacuation of Trost haven’t broken her, in fact, she looks even stronger in Jean’s eyes. “And who is this young lady, Jean?” she wants to know as she turns towards Sasha, who’s smiling shyly at her, and waves towards the baby boy, who’s looking at her with a gleeful gaze, as if he’s instinctively recognized her as a family member.

“Mom, this is Sasha. Sasha Blouse,” Jean makes the introductions, wrapping an arm around her shoulders; not that his mother needs any more elaborations, the way her son looks at the young woman speaks loud enough for her.

“I’m very happy to meet you, Mrs. Kirstein, Jean constantly speaks with much love about you,” Sasha greets her with the polite way she used to speak as a cadet to hide her accent, while nodding her head. She almost expects an explosion of questions from the other woman, about how she and Jean are connected and what the baby in her arms means, but nothing of this follows and she almost leaves a surprised gasp when Jean’s mother squeezes her hand and caresses her cheek in a warm, motherly way that makes her feel like home at once.

“It’s wonderful to meet you too, my dear. You are lovely,” she comments and Jean lowers his head to hide the wide smile that appears on his face; he had a feeling that these two would like each other in an instant and he’s genuinely happy that he’s proven right.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kirstein.”

“And this, mother, is our son, Marco.” Jean continues and now both him and Sasha chuckle when the older woman leaves a delighted squeal at the thought that her boy, who will always remain a child to her, has become a father.

“You are a beautiful little one,” she coos to her grandson and he stretches his little arm as if to reach her. “May I hold him, Sasha?”

“Of course!”

“He has his mother’s eyes from what I can tell! And he looks just like you when you were little, Jean, he’s quiet like you were.”

“Oh, really, then why was he such a handful in the military?” Sasha jokes, making Jean playfully nudge her and his mother laugh loudly as she ushers them inside.

“Come in, come in, you must be exhausted! And I want to know everything about my grandson, your journey and these years!”

 

Sasha feels comfortable at once, Mrs. Kirstein being warm and welcoming towards her and making her miss her own mother, whom she lost when she was only three years old. Her nervousness is long gone and it doesn’t even resurface when Jean takes Marco in the garden so the little boy can enjoy the sun and she stays alone with her; in fact, she has the feeling that this is exactly what Jean’s mother was aiming at.

“And now that the men of the house can’t hear us,” she starts and smiles mischievously at Sasha, who can’t help but return the smile, “I want to learn everything about how you feel being a mother, dear. Did everything go smoothly during the pregnancy and the birth?”

Sasha has been expecting this question and she and Jean have had many discussions during their travel about this issue. This woman has been through so many difficulties because of the war, through so much agony for her son’s life, that they don’t have the right to sadden her by narrating what happened this past year: how Jean was considered dead for nine whole months and how he returned with his wounds still not completely healed.

“Yes, it all went very well, Marco didn’t give me any trouble. And my friend Mikasa and my Commander Hanji were there for me while I was giving birth, they helped me so much.”

“Ah, my son couldn’t handle being in the room with you?” Mrs. Kirstein laughs, although she stops when she sees Sasha’s frowning. “I’m sorry, did I ask something I shouldn’t?”

“No, no, don’t apologize…It’s just that…Well, I’m sure Jean would be with me…if he were there,” Sasha says and quickly goes on when she sees the other woman’s gentle eyes filling with concern; and she says what she and Jean have decided to tell, the half truth. “He had to leave for a spying mission before I found out I was with child…it was very difficult and he returned three months after Marco’s birth,” she concludes without talking about the details, about the drama, the grief and the hell they all went through.

“Oh, my…I’m so sorry. How difficult it must have been for both of you, I can’t even imagine it,” the other one whispers and pats Sasha’s hand; the young woman is only happy that she won’t ever learn how difficult it was exactly.

“I had my friends this period of time, they’ve been a great help…and Jean found a family when he came back,” she replies because, even if they’re still haunted by the memories of this year, Jean’s mom deserves to stay at the positive facts; Jean’s here, alive and healthy and their child has filled their lives with peace and contentment.

“You’re right, of course, you’re right. And my grandson is a beautiful being, Sasha, and with a lovely name. Did you name him after a relative, a friend…?”

“Marco Bodt was…he was a great soldier, Mrs. Kirstein, and a wonderful friend, the best we could wish for.” Sasha explains, but doesn’t go further, she can’t talk about how Marco always supported her when the cadets laughed at her or what a life-changing impact he had on Jean; Jean should talk to her about this whenever he feels ready. “Unfortunately, he died unexpectedly and tragically, but he was important to Jean and me, so I thought…I thought my son should have his name.”

_Sasha takes a deep breath and rests her back against the three pillows Mikasa put there for her, eyes not leaving her newborn son, not even for a single second. She still feels slightly weak and exhausted, but her face is practically glowing, she’s smiling softly and she enjoys the presence of her friends and Commander. Connie can’t stop making funny grimaces at the baby, Mikasa is looking amazed at the sight, Armin is already making plans about how to make the baby’s life more comfortable, Hanji is fussing over mother and son…even the always emotionless Levi is shaking his head fondly._

_“So, Sasha, have you decided what you’re gonna name him?” Floch wants to know kindly; despite criticizing the Scout Regiment when he first joined, now he truly feels as part of the group and has built a steady friendship with her, Eren and Connie._

_“Marco. His name is Marco.” Sasha answers, her voice holding both joy and bitterness; bitterness for her son’s namesake who died in such a cruel way and for Jean, who won’t be there to see their child grow up. At the same time, the former soldiers of the 104th exchange meaningful glares, surely suspecting that she would choose that name; after all, Marco’s death has left a strong impact even to those who weren’t that close friends with him._

_Only when they start leaving to allow both Sasha and the baby some rest does she let the tears fall freely and the sobs to escape her lips; because, no matter how happy she is for having given birth to a healthy child, no matter how excited she feels for being a mother, her grief for Jean’s passing can’t abandon her, especially now that she has their son in her arms._

_A gentle caress on the top of her head makes her raise her eyes, expecting to see Connie; right now she needs her best friend’s compassionate jokes more than ever. She’s caught off guard, though, when she sees that it’s not Connie, but Eren, who’s staring at her with a serious and yet comforting expression. “Hey, Sasha, I know this isn’t enough, but…you’re strong. You’ll get through this, even if the pain never goes away…and you’re not alone. That’s a promise.”_

_“Thanks, Eren.” Sasha manages to give him a small smile through her tears, which grows slightly wider when her friend carefully caresses baby Marco’s head._

_“Just so you know, little one, your father was one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”_

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you’re going, little man? You’ll explore more tomorrow, now it’s someone’s bed time!”

Jean leans against the doorframe and watches Sasha playfully chasing Marco, who’s been crawling around the small sitting room for a while now, catching him and making him comfortable in her hug before humming a soft melody to lull him to sleep. He doesn’t make his presence known at once, preferring to watch the scene in front of him with a tender expression, a part of him still unable to believe that this is his reality now.

He remembers the day he met Sasha in the military, how he considered her totally nuts—because, seriously, they all still tease her about that first day of training—and how he made fun of her in the following years. If anyone had told him back then that he would grow to love and care about her so much and that they would have a child together, he’d tell them they were out of their mind. But as he observes her now, her calm stance, her mature expression, so different from the childish and cheerful one she had years ago and yet still suiting her, he’s almost surprised by how natural this feels.

“Sweet dreams, my baby potato,” Sasha whispers and kisses Marco’s cheek before sitting down in a pile of pillows and blankets they put there earlier so the baby wouldn’t hurt himself. Only then does Jean enter the room, sitting in front of them and gently rubbing his son’s back.

“You’ve been singing that tune to him for as long as I can remember,” he gently tells her, taking care not to wake up the sleeping baby. “It’s nice.”

“Historia sang it to us when we were trainees, every night before we went to bed. Sometimes, when the nights were really difficult, it was the only thing that could calm us down.” Sasha explains. frowning when she remembers the days of the invasion of Trost and before Eren sealed the hole in Wall Rose; if it weren’t for Historia’s song, none of them would have been able to sleep back then.

“Mhm. I…I can’t recall any lullabies of my childhood, although my mom always said that I was such a quiet kid that I didn’t need any, a bedtime story or two and I was out like a light.” Jean chuckles and looks lovingly at her. “Told you she would love you two.”

“I like her too, she’s really sweet, Jean.”

“Yes…Yes, she is…” he mumbles, his gaze turning melancholic; he tries to ignore the sting of guilt, but Sasha’s questioning look doesn’t allow him to avoid the subject. “It’s just that…I was horrible to both of you, Sasha. I laughed at you just because you had a different way to deal with your fears and being a soldier…and I was so rude to my mother that I can’t believe how she still talks to me...And it needed the war, the heavy losses, the almost-death situations and me becoming a parent to realize that she wasn’t smothering me, but she only wanted to see me happy and safe!”

“Shut up! I swear, Jean, stop this nonsense right now!” Sasha speaks intently and Jean is taken aback by the ferocity of her words, it’s as if she’s reflecting the strength and courage he needs so much. “Your mom hasn’t seen you in freaking _years_ , there was a war going on, she didn’t know if she’d see you again and you were expecting her to hold a grudge against you? Especially when you’ve changed so much and become the strong soldier who led us to safety so many times?

“As for you being ‘horrible’ with me…come on, did you seriously think I’d be angry at you for some mocking you did?” she goes on as Jean is looking at her as if he desperately wants to believe her words.

“Sasha, how…why do you show such an understanding instead of agreeing with me and admitting that I was a jerk?”

“Because you _were_ , you’re not anymore and you weren’t a jerk exactly, you just had…how did you put it…oh, yes, a different way to deal with your fears. And it’s not only understanding, Jean, it’s…it’s just like you said it, the war, the heavy losses, almost-death situations and me becoming a parent…And I’ve learnt to appreciate that we and the rest of the Scouts are alive and safe. I know, Marco, I know, your dad’s a stubborn one, isn’t he, that’s why we love him, though,” she leaves a small chuckle at Marco letting soft noises in his sleep. “See, Jean, even your son thinks that what you’re saying is total rubbish, disagree with him now if you dare.”

Jean laughs at Sasha’s last words because it’s his biggest fear and she just put it to rest; the fear that he’ll disappoint her and their child, that he won’t be a good father, that there will be one day when Marco will accuse him for letting his family and his friends down. Sasha’s comment, despite its joking character, is exactly what Jean needs to hear; that they are here for him just like he’s here for them and that his boy will never be disappointed in him. With a tearful smile he cradles Sasha’s face and kisses her gently, slowly, enjoying the fact that he’s with them, that he survived last year’s ordeal, that now they have all the time in the world.

“Sasha, despite the months that have passed I can’t nearly thank you enough…for our son and for being by my side.”

“Jean, if there’s anyone here who should say ‘thank you’ it’s me,” Sasha replies, now her own eyes filled with tears. “And don’t be scared for anything, you’re a great father and he adores you so there’s no way you’ll ever hurt us, okay?”

And for the first time in a long time, Jean truly believes that.


End file.
